ex-girlfriends

From 2006-2011, former soap opera star Adriana Ferreyr was the “on-again, off-again” girlfriend of hedge fund manager George Soros. As the story goes, toward the end of their relationship, Soros promised Ferreyr her “dream” apartment on East 85th Street, broke up with her a day after the place went into contract, texted her “what are you up to?”1 one night a few weeks later, and then, after going over to her place to “reconcile,” whispered in her ear that he’d given her apartment away to another woman (who would later become his wife). Since then, Ferreyr has demonstrated time and time again that she’s packing a serious pair, but no more so than today. Before we get into that, though, a brief recap of Ferrey’rs balls in action:

So, she’s obviously holding out for a lot more than $1 million, but how much? The dream apartment was worth $1.9 million, would that do the trick? $2 million? $3 million? A nice round five? Apparently the answer is none of the above. Read more »

From 2010 to 2014, when he was working in Evercore’s mining and metals group, Frank Perkins Hixon Jr. occasionally found himself on the receiving end of material non-public information. Sometimes it was about forthcoming acquisitions. Sometimes it was about his own company’s earnings. In both cases, FPH Jr. knew he could sweeten things for himself by trading on the 411. Naturally, he didn’t want to get fired from Evercore for securities fraud, as it would put a damper on his ability to obtain inside info, so he couldn’t be too obvious. Placing the trades in an account under his own name was obviously out. Same went for anyone with whom he shared a last name, like his mom or dad. And that’s when the lightbulb went off: Read more »

In 2006, George Soros was eating lunch in the Hamptons when he feasted his eyes on something he thought looked even tastier than his soft-shell crab sandwich: 23 year-old Brazilian soap star Adriana Ferreyr. A “smitten” Soros asked for her phone number and the two dated for the next five years, with Soros promising to buy her her “dream home” at 30 East 85th Street, a convenient two blocks from his own pad. A few days after a contract was signed Soros “heartlessly dumped.” Ferreyr was pretty pissed about the situation but, as these things go, the duo “briefly reconciled for a romantic night together” during which Jorge supposedly had the Soroses to “whisper in her ear” that he’d given the keys to her dream house to another one of his gal-pals. That’s when this allegedly happened: Read more »

It might seem all fun and games but there is a downside to being a billionaire. Namely, the task of coming up with what to do with your shit-tons of money. It’s not that, at 53 years old, David Tepper hasn’t had plenty of time to think about how he might put his stacks of coin to use. In fact, according to his sister, as a little boy he predicted he’d be a millionaire “before turning 30.” So, we’re talking decades here. But back in a suburb of Pittsburgh, when the Appaloosa founder was looking at a railing on the front porch and asking his brother, “If I put my head in there, would it get suck,” hadn’t dreamed he’d have the amount of money he does today. And those extra zeros really kind of expand your options to be limitless, making the task all the more difficult. Along the way, ideas, of course, have presented themselves. He could, for instance:

* Pay for a whole bunch of kids to go to college. But Tepps isn’t too keen on that one. “I’m gonna have somebody put together a form letter for that,” he says. “It’ll say something like, I’m going to give you a great gift. What I got: Nothing.”

* Have a mold of his balls made (but a former employee already gave him just those, in all their “cartoonishly huge and grotesquely veiny” glory) or a pair of tits for everyone in the office (ditto on that base already being covered: “We had this client, they make breast implants,” says a former employee. “He loved to keep them on the desk, he’d love to throw them around.”)

* Get back at the girlfriend of five years, Cindy Perl, who dumped him, citing a question in her mind as to whether or not he’d be able to “support the lifestyle” she was hoping for, by, I don’t know, hiring one of those skywriting planes to leave the message “How do you like me now, bitch?” every morning over her house? But the poor girl has probably suffered enough, having married a dentist.

* Buy a private jet? No: “I have NetJets.”

* A piece of the Steelers? Already owns a minority stake.

* A hot piece of just barely legal ass? “I could get myself a 22-year-old!” he says, but then there is the matter of the wife of thirty years, Marlene.

Okay, well WHAT THEN? Think, god damn it, THINK. Read more »